by L. L Hunter
That is until I reached the cute blonde second to last in line. She was bouncing up and down on her feet and looking nervous as hell. She was gorgeous, and as I got closer, as I stood in front of the reporter next to her, I saw how her hands shook and how the sweat glistened on her brow. I saw how she noticed how close I was and quickly looked back at her phone. She was muttering something to herself. It looked like a prayer. I smiled. The whole time I did the interview with the radio host next to her, I kept my eyes trained on her. I couldn’t help myself. There was something about her that made me want to get to know her.
I knew before I stood in front of her before it was her turn to ask me her questions, I knew she wasn’t going to be just another journalist. There was something fresh, raw, and different about her. It was refreshing. And sexy.
And then it was her turn, and when I stepped in front of her, the whole world stopped. It was just she and I.
And when the first words fell out of her mouth, I just about lost it.
“Um… Hi, Jack.”
I smiled. “Hi.”
As I watched her, I noticed when our eyes met, or when my gaze skimmed the surface of her body, or when I smiled at her, how uncomfortable it made her feel. I smirked, and she squirmed. I was making her so uncomfortable, and it was delicious. I wanted to test all the ways that made her squirm. I wanted to watch her lose control before me all night long, but we both had duties to perform. We were both working here. We both had to be professional. My eyes studied her media pass and saw her name printed there. Chloe Vanderbilt.
But I knew I had to get to know her. I had to get her alone.
So, after I finished the interviews and headed inside, I found the reporter’s boss. I knew this woman was the reporter’s boss due to the same security pass they both wore.
“Excuse me? Ms Wickford?” I asked, looking at her pass.
Chloe’s boss looked up and smiled when she saw who was trying to get her attention.
“Yes? How can I help you, Mr Dean?”
“I was wondering if you could give this ticket to your colleague out on the red carpet. It’s an invitation to the after party.” I handed over a spare pass I’d got from my manager before I left. Since I didn’t have a plus one to bring along to this event, this ticket was the perfect excuse to talk to Chloe again. I needed to get to know her more. And because of our work commitments, now wasn’t the time. But afterward, when everyone was allowed to take off their shoes and party, I would have my chance.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr Dean. Thank you. I shall pass this along to Miss Vanderbilt. I see my little trailblazer made an impression on you.” Chloe’s boss smiled knowingly.
“Yes. She did. In more ways than you’ll know.”
As I made my way inside the theatre, I thought about how uncomfortable I’d made Chloe feel on the red carpet. How I’d made her practically come undone in front of me. It made me think of what she’d be like in bed…
Oh, God. This woman might be the death of me.
6
After the film, which, in my opinion, wasn’t the best work I’d done, we got a bit of applause. But honestly, I was expecting nothing. I couldn’t wait to get to the after party for two reasons—so I could see Chloe, and so I could drink.
I didn’t stay until the very end of the film, but I could hear the applause as I left the theatre. I was ushered out by security into the hotel next door, where the after party was to be held, so as not to get mobbed. As soon as I was safely inside the ballroom, I made a beeline for the bar. I ordered a scotch on the rocks and then went to find a quiet, private spot where I could wait for Chloe.
I was on my third scotch when she finally walked in, almost forty minutes late. Where had she been? I shook off the thought, and remembered she was working, and so was I.
Chloe made her way straight to the bar, obviously feeling just like I was. I realised this was my chance. I downed my drink quickly and walked over to the bar.
She stood at the bar, nervously glancing around. I smiled and studied her as I approached. The bartender was busy making a cocktail by the looks of it. I could smell mint and tequila too. I was right. She wasn’t the only one who needed a stiff drink.
“You made it,” I said, sliding up beside her. I had to lean close to her ear so she could hear me over the noise of the music and the cocktail shaker.
She shuddered as my voice and breath caressed her skin and turned to face me.
“I’m here.” I smiled, standing close.
Standing so close, I could smell her perfume. She also smelt a little like sweat, a nice natural scent, which I preferred. There was something to be said about pheromones… I needed more alcohol. And a cold shower if I couldn’t control myself. I ordered another scotch and dropped a fifty on the bar. Chloe spun on me, jaw falling open.
“You just paid for my drink! How’d you know I hadn’t paid?”
“Because I’ve been watching you.” As soon as the words came out, I immediately cringed. And Chloe made this face that made me want to rewind time and start over. That sounded a lot better in my head. Oh God, this wasn’t going so well. “No, not like that. I saw you when you walked in.” Phew. Okay, but still not good. Smooth, Jack. Real smooth. I quickly led her to the booth where I’d been waiting when she walked in. I was failing miserably at this plan already. She probably thought I was the biggest creep. Tomorrow, I’d probably see the headline, ‘Jack Dean admits he likes watching women.’
She slid into the seat opposite me.
“I couldn’t wait to talk to you again,” I said. There. I admitted it.
“But I’m a journalist. Why would you wanna talk to me?”
“You’re not that kind of journalist. Are you, Chloe?”
I leaned in closer. I needed to be closer. I had to know more about her.
But she sat back in her chair and chewed on her straw. She looked down into her drink, letting her hair hang over her face.
I’d done it. I’d exposed her and made her feel vulnerable. But that’s what I wanted. I needed her walls to be stripped down. I needed her to bare all to me. She was the journalist. I was the actor. She was meant to be getting me to open up. Oh, how the tables had turned.
“So how about that exclusive now?”
I was feeling confident now. I sat back in my chair and watched the way she fiddled with her purse and her drink. I watched how she looked anywhere but at me. I watched how I made her flustered. I loved I could make her do that. It gave me a kind of power, knowing that I was the cause of her unease.
And then I did something either completely stupid or completely brave. Well, my stomach did it for me.
I invited her back to my room.
And when we made it to the elevator, we were caught—not only in each other but in a spotlight. It was as if everyone saw us, yet we were the only ones in the world. As the doors closed, and the lights flashed, I drew her to me.
I’d wanted to escape the limelight for a little while, but the moment I decided to risk it all, little did we both know—I’d rewritten our fates.
7
As soon as the doors shut, my mouth collided with hers. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or the fact that she made me fucking crazy. Whatever it was, nothing mattered. I wanted her. I spun her around, so her backside was flush alongside my groin. I pulled her against me, revelling in the gasp she made as her butt grazed against me. Then I pushed her toward one elevator wall. She put her hands on the metal walls, and as I came up behind her and kissed her neck and earlobe, she moaned.
I was crazy. I’d never done anything like this before, making out with a woman in an elevator. It was bad. I felt so, so bad. So naughty. But Chloe changed something in me. She made me want to be bad. I wanted to do everything with her. I wanted to risk it all.
We made it to my room, just. When we reached the door, I struggled to get my room key out. Where the hell had I put it? I swear… I finally pulled it out of my jacket pocket and slipped it in. Then
the door fell open, and we fell inside.
I couldn’t wait. As soon as the door closed, I was pushing her up against it. I kissed her deeply, enjoying the feel of her lips, her skin against mine. I liked the way our bodies seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.
And then Chloe fell. But I caught her before she hit the ground and carried her to the bed.
Which was a bad, bad mistake? No way was I going to be able to control myself.
Especially since her legs were wrapped around my hips, and her centre was pressed against my centre… and then my stomach chose that moment to make its presence known.
I stared into her eyes. “As much as I want this—and you—right now. I also want food.”
Way to kill the mood, stomach!
But it brought me back to the present. Things had probably gone too far. I needed to seriously think about what I was doing. What was I doing?
As I ordered room service and more wine, which was probably not a good idea as booze was probably making all the decisions, I looked back at the gorgeous, half-undressed woman on my bed, and all thoughts that this was a mistake went away.
Sure, I probably had a reputation of being a party boy or for hooking up with my co-stars by the media. None of that was true. They didn’t know me. The truth was, I was lonely, and it had been far too long since I’d been with a woman. So, as soon as I met Chloe, I knew. She wasn’t an ordinary journalist. She was different.
She made me rethink everything.
The next morning, when I opened my eyes, I felt something on my chest. I glanced around and then saw her. And then I remembered.
The premiere.
The Red Carpet.
The After Party.
The drinks.
Kisses in the dark.
Kisses in the elevator.
The room service.
More drinks.
More kisses.
I sat up and rubbed my hand over my face and through my hair.
I didn’t regret anything, but what was going to happen now? Was she going to leave? Was I going to leave? Will we just go back to our separate worlds? Nothing was certain, but the truth was, we were from two different worlds. We were from opposite sides of the barricade, so to speak. We were meant to be enemies.
As I watched her sleep, though, mouth slightly open, drool glistening on her chin, I realised I had never felt this way before about anyone. This was wrong, but it felt right. I realised then I wanted her in my life.
And that was confirmed when I walked out of the bathroom a little while later to see her packing up her things and scrambling to get ready to leave.
She told me we should probably keep this a secret, but I didn’t want to.
I wanted the whole world to know how happy I was.
I was feeling rebellious.
So, I gave her permission to write the story. Our story.
Soon, the whole world was going to know the truth.
8
After Chloe left for work, in a little bit of a state, I headed back to the house. I stood under the steaming hot jets of the shower and thought about everything that had happened the night before. Some of it was a blur, but other parts… other parts I remembered clear as day. I would never forget the way she looked at me or the way my gaze made her vulnerable. It was a good kind of vulnerable, though. Under my gaze, she seemed to drown. It was as if she was a bug who had dived into a drink and couldn’t get out. I made her uncomfortable, yet filled with so much desire. And judging by her reaction to finding herself in bed this morning, she still had so much to think about—and so did I.
I took perhaps the biggest risk of my life last night, and I probably ruined it all. Everything I had worked so hard for was probably exploding in fiery ruin in the media right now, and my name was going to be falling from the sky along with my reputation.
I wasn’t one for hook-ups, and this was no hook-up. I knew the media would probably say it was, though. They were going to tear Chloe and me apart before we even got going.
When I got out of the shower a little while later, rejuvenated, I heard my phone dancing on the nightstand where I’d left it to charge. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I padded out into the bedroom and grabbed it.
“Hello?”
“Have you seen the headlines this morning?”
It was my manager. He often began a call with no greeting, only barking orders.
“No… I haven’t had a chance to check my phone. Why?”
“There’s a picture… are you sitting down?”
I was used to random pictures of me ending up online. Some were snaps of me out and about, taken by the paps. Others were more incriminating, like the one Alexa conveniently staged to boost her career and image.
“Isn’t there always a picture? What’s new?” I sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through my still wet hair. “I’m sitting down.”
“That event last night, the after party, was a phone and camera-free zone, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Well, someone got a photo of you and a woman leaving together. It’s pretty racy, and frankly, it doesn’t look good, Jack.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Shit.
Someone had snapped a picture of Chloe and me together.
I thought back to that moment and remembered the flashes. I’d thought they were lights, but there were no strobes in the room.
They must have been camera flashes.
Then I remembered Chloe and the story she was supposed to write and how I’d persuaded her to do it. I wondered if she was actually going to go ahead with it.
I wondered if she’d seen the photo yet. She must be freaking out.
“Are you still there, Jack?”
Shit. I’d forgotten all about Kyle on the phone.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“Listen, I’ll make some calls and try to get this thing buried. It’ll be almost impossible seeing as you’re already a trending topic on Twitter. But I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, go do your interviews, and I’ll call you later.”
What had I done? Chloe had already freaked out this morning and ran away. I didn’t want to think how she might be feeling right now. I wanted to see her and hold her tight and apologise for ruining her life. Then I remembered what Kyle had said.
“Wait. Interviews? What interviews?”
Kyle sighed. “Stop thinking about her, and focus, man. You have a couple of interviews with TV networks and a film magazine today, as well as a restaurant opening tonight. It’s all in your email. Have a good day and don’t worry about that picture. I’ll sort it out.”
“Okay. Thanks, Kyle.”
Before I checked my emails, I opened my social media accounts, and sure enough, Chloe and I were trending.
#WhoIsJackDeansMysteryGirl?
#WomanInThePhotograph
Those were just a few of them. I opened one of the articles, posted by some online entertainment website, and there was the photograph front and centre.
I’m not sure if it was editing, but the use of lighting and shadows was clever. It hid half of our faces and highlighted the fact that my hands dipped low toward Chloe’s butt. Her head was tipped back, and her back was against me. This must have been the moment I pulled her against me and kissed her neck in the elevator. The person who captured us in this pose was good at their job, I’ll give them that. Kyle was right. It was racy and was certainly going to make people talk.
No one knew who Chloe was yet, and that was the upside to this situation.
But as soon as the story broke, the story Chloe was being asked to write, the entire world was going to know who she was.
There would be no more hiding.
9
I was sitting in the green room at the TV studio waiting to go on when my phone rang. It was Kyle again. It had been a few hours since his last call and a few hours since the photo was leaked, so I had a few clues as to why he was calling now.
“Hey, Kyle. What’s up?”
“Hey, I just wanted to say I have good news! I just got a call from Julia and the studios. Ticket sales have picked up dramatically. In fact, there has been so much interest in this film, the studios want to do the sequel. How good is that?”
“Wow. That’s really great, Kyle. But I told you, I need a break from it all for a little while. And I need to get away from Alexa.”
My phone beeped, indicating an incoming call.
The caller ID made my stomach churn. “Speak of the devil,” I said, groaning. “Alexa is trying to call.”
Kyle chuckled. The bastard.
“Good luck getting her off your scent now. I have to go. I just wanted to say break a leg and don’t tell the reporters anything about the woman in the photograph. Keep it on the DL, ’kay?”
“Okay.” I stared at my phone. I had missed Alexa’s call, thankfully. But I had a voicemail. I would bet anything to say it was her and that she was jealous of Chloe.
And sure enough, the message was from Alexa, and it was whiny and annoying. She went on and on how she wished she was here with me, and that it looked like I was having ‘lots of fun’. I hit the delete button and went back to my scrolling of social media. I’d taken a selfie earlier but was in the midst of posting it when Kyle called. I finished off the post by tagging the TV studio and hit publish. I had to carry on as if everything was normal. Like Kyle said, I had to keep it on the down low.
And just like Kyle and I suspected, the host’s second question was about the photo.
“So, Jack, who’s the lucky lady? We just saw this, and the internet is going crazy.” The TV host puts the photo up on the screen behind our chairs. I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair and laugh nervously.
“Oh, that’s nothing. It’s just… you’ll find out soon enough.”
